


Twenty

by KateKintail



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Party Like It's 1999
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 03:10:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18930097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: A series of twenty 100-word drabbles detailing the relationship between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.





	Twenty

**Author's Note:**

> Written to celebrate the 20th Anniversary of The Phantom Manace. Party like it's 1999!

1.  
Qui-Gon’s hand flexed around the hilt of his lightsaber. He had no intention of drawing it, for he had no interest in taking another padawan. He would not be able to stand it if another turned to the dark side. And, yet, he found himself with the lightsaber in hand, taking up a defensive stance. “No, Obi-Wan. Position yourself like this.” Obi-Wan was a quick learner. “Yes. That’s right.” Just because Qui-Gon couldn’t take a padawan didn’t mean he couldn’t show this youngling how to protect himself. Qui-Gon might not be his master, but he still had something to offer. 

2.  
The restraints dug into Obi-Wan’s flesh, blood trickling from his wrists down his arms. He’d learned that if he struggled, it would only irritate his wounds, but it was hard to resist the urge to try to pull free. What other choice did he have? The mission had gone badly. There would be no rescue. Then he heard the familiar buzz of a lightsaber and the door to his cell was torn from its hinges. Qui-Gon stood there, looking wild with rage bathed in relief. “You came for me,” Obi-Wan choked out. Qui-Gon waved his hand, and the restraints released.

3.  
“I think…” Obi-Wan hesitated, twisting the fine strands of hair around his finger. “I think it’s long enough now, Master.” Qui-Gon was almost overwhelmed by the swell of pride he felt as he stepped close and braided Obi-Wan’s hair into the boy’s first padawan braid. It was more band than braid at this point, it seemed, but he didn’t dare tell Obi-Wan this. The boy was just as proud as he tilted his head, trusting his master’s large fingers in his fine hair. Qui-Gon found that his hands remembered the motion instinctively, as if he were made to do this. 

4.  
Obi-Wan hesitated to disturb his master reading, but that cough sounded terrible, and this tea was what Qui-Gon had made for him last year when Obi-Wan was sick. With a deep breath, he approached the couch, mug outstretched. Qui-Gon looked up, frowning. “You’re my padawan, not my servant.” Crestfallen, Obi-Wan turned to head back to the kitchen, pausing as Qui-Gon dissolved into coughs. “Wait,” he choked out. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want it.” Obi-Wan handed it over, not spilling a drop. When Qui-Gon took the first long sip of tea, his eyes closed with pleasure. Obi-Wan looked on, beaming. 

5.  
His padawan learner studied hard, so it was no surprise Obi-Wan’s classwork was excellent. His lightsaber skills had improved remarkably as well. And his bond with the Force was strong, vibrant, like a living cord that Qui-Gon could feel humming constantly. The problem lay in Obi-Wan’s ability to be calm, centered, and mindful. Like most boys his age, he had boundless energy and enthusiasm. Rather than force Obi-Wan to change, Qui-Gon made suggestions: “Would you like to join me in meditation tonight?” or “Perhaps charging in with lightsabers drawn isn’t the best option.” This, too, Obi-Wan would learn in time. 

6.  
Qui-Gon was wise. Qui-Gon was a skilled fighter. And Qui-Gon had a strong connection to the Force that even the council respected. But Obi-Wan wouldn’t have used the word ‘fun’ to describe his master. Being ordered off his sleep couch to practice forms as the sun rose was not fun. Sitting with his legs crossed, trying to meditate and deepen their training bond was not fun. Spending a quiet evening reading datapads on politics and resources on planets in the Outer Rim was not fun. Fun or not, there was no one else Obi-Wan would have chosen as his master.

7.  
Qui-Gon could sense his padawan’s movements and actions just before they happened. In battle, the two Jedi moved together as if this were a rehearsed dance, sometimes taking down their own opponents and sometimes working together against one. And though worried about his padawan’s safety at first, Obi-Wan’s presence was ultimately reassuring to Qui-Gon. There was nothing like fighting alongside his padawan, taking down those who harmed and hurt and oppressed others. There was nothing like standing beside Obi-Wan at the end of it all, freeing all the captives from their cages, feeling the Force surging with accomplishment and goodness. 

8.  
When Qui-Gon had sent word he would be returning from a solo mission with a surprise, this was not what Obi-Wan had hoped for. What had Qui-Gon called it? Pongoliath? Pongalo? Something with Pon. The thing was tiny but with a mouth of sharp teeth and more white fluff than not. The fluffball raced around their quarters, gnawing on legs of tables and chairs, leaving sticky paw prints across the couch, and cawing as it bounced. How did it have so much energy? “Don’t you love it?” Qui-Gon asked, petting its head. Obi-Wan’s heart melted to see his master’s smile.

9.  
Overcome with a yawn, Qui-Gon put down his datapad; trade relations were dull and would wait until tomorrow night. But he did not head to his room. Obi-Wan was passed out on the couch, his feet in Qui-Gon’s lap. Qui-Gon had barely noticed how quickly time had passed, how much older Obi-Wan was now. He took up the entirety of the couch, and Qui-Gon did not have the heart to move him. After readjusting a cushion or two, Qui-Gon managed to get comfortable enough to fall asleep himself. On offworld missions, he and Obi-Wan had slept in far worse conditions. 

10.  
As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, there was nothing so warm in the galaxy as Qui-Gon Jinn. Not the volcanic planets. Not the fiery supernovas. Nothing compared to leaving an ice planet and burrowing against his master’s side, with both Qui-Gon’s Jedi robe and Qui-Gon’s strong arms wrapped around him. Now that he was mostly grown, he was glad to find he still fit there comfortably and pleased that Qui-Gon would still share his robes and his warmth. “D-don’t w-w-want-t t-to g-g-go ba-ba-backkkk,” Obi-Wan insisted. The reply was a tight hug and a fresh wave of warmth through their bond. 

11.  
How had he never noticed before how handsome his padawan had become? Those piercing blue eyes were the same color as his lightsaber. Everything and nothing had changed. Obi-Wan still came to him to have his braid done. Obi-Wan still grumbled when emerging from bed before sunrise for form practice. But he had grown into such a handsome, clever, capable Jedi. They could lose track of time sparring in a practice room. They could debate concepts well into the night. When Obi-Wan was away, Qui-Gon felt like a part of himself was missing. Not just any part. The best part. 

12.  
How had he never noticed before how handsome his master was? His body hard and strong, but his eyes were gentle and soft. And when he mentioned how well Obi-Wan was doing, the padawan could barely contain his joy. It wasn’t just receiving approval that made Obi-Wan feel good, though. All it took now was for Qui-Gon to look in his direction, for Qui-Gon to notice him or speak to him, for Obi-Wan’s insides to explode with delight. It was as if Qui-Gon simply being there actually filled up part of his heart. Not just any part. The best part. 

13.  
Qui-Gon was grateful that Obi-Wan’s fever hadn’t spiked until they were nearly to Coruscant. Getting him into the bacta-filled tank had probably saved his life after the injuries he had sustained, but it was just one more round of torture for Qui-Gon. The second-to-worst part was not being able to hold Obi-Wan as he’d done on the ship, trying to keep his padawan stable and alive. Qui-Gon could only press his palm to the glass and feel him through the Force. The worst part was nearly losing Obi-Wan before he’d had a chance to tell the man he loved him. 

14.  
“You didn’t have to say anything,” Obi-Wan murmured, lost amid sensations and emotions. The trail of Qui-Gon’s soft kisses from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet made speech for them both a near impossibility. Obi-Wan felt cherished. Obi-Wan felt loved. Qui-Gon hadn’t needed to say it. And, yet, those words had done something to him, opened him up in a way he had thought he, as a Jedi, would never be. Attachments were forbidden, yet the attachment of padawan and master was integral to the Jedi. His toes curled as Qui-Gon kissed his inner thigh.

15.  
“I love you, too,” Obi-Wan confessed one morning, as he curled against Qui-Gon in bed. Qui-Gon pulled his padawan close, nuzzling his face into the soft, buzzed hair, feeling the strength of the man’s body in his arms. The delight Qui-Gon felt at hearing the words was almost at once overtaken by the realization that he hadn’t needed to hear them either. He already knew. He pulled Obi-Wan into a deep kiss. The breakfast trays Obi-Wan had worked hard to prepare for them this morning sat untouched at the foot of their bed. The galaxy itself would wait for them.

16.  
Even Qui-Gon’s hips thrust gracefully. With Obi-Wan’s hand sliding swiftly, slickly down the length of his cock and back up again, Obi-Wan knew it wouldn’t take much longer, but Qui-Gon was trying to hold out. The struggle made it sweeter but was ultimately unnecessary. Obi-Wan leaned forward, and kissed the man on the mouth then nuzzled into his beard. “That’s it,” Obi-Wan muttered with reassurance. “Give in to the pleasure, Master.” With a moan, Qui-Gon embraced the pleasure they had danced around for months after Obi-Wan had come of age. Obi-Wan kissed him again and said, “You came for me.” 

17.  
He wasn’t sure that Obi-Wan would truly understand about this boy, but he knew that his padawan would follow him anywhere regardless. Obi-Wan would make his opinions heard, would not be afraid to speak out. But, in the end, he would trust Qui-Gon. This boy was so filled with the Force already, he had to be the one who would bring balance to it. “Why do I sense we’ve picked up another pathetic life form?” Through their bond, Qui-Gon scolded Obi-Wan for his choice of words but also sent amusement, optimism. The Force had led them here for a reason. 

18.  
Nothing ever went unsaid between them. But as Obi-Wan bent over his master’s lifeless body, he longed to hear Qui-Gon say something to reassure him in this moment, tell him the way forward, or speak of what they had had together. The emptiness in him where their bond had been was almost too great to endure. As he cradled Qui-Gon’s head in his lap, as tears streamed down his cheeks, Obi-Wan felt clarity. Everything Obi-Wan had done as a Jedi had been for Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon’s faith in the goodness of the universe, in the Force that binds everything together. 

19.  
Yoda’s small hand squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulder as Obi-Wan knelt on the floor, head bowed in respect. Ready for his trials the man might be, but ready to take a padawan on, he might not. Yoda had to be sure this was what Obi-Wan truly wanted. “For whom are you doing this?” Obi-Wan considered the question carefully, and through the Force Yoda sensed not only Obi-Wan but the young boy, Anakin, and Qui-Gon, too. Grief was powerful, ever-present, but Obi-Wan embraced it rather than fighting it. It was Qui-Gon’s final lesson. “A good master you will be, like yours before you.”

20.  
His eyes closed, his body deep in meditation, Obi-Wan felt rather than saw the presence the Force had delivered to him. Scared it might fade if he opened his eyes, he did not dare move until he felt a sensation against his cheek. Then the urge to know was too great. He opened his eyes and found himself facing the glowing, blue Force ghost of his former master. It had been so many years, but he wasted not one second in embracing Qui-Gon. With help from the Force, the form was just substantive enough. “You came for me,” Obi-Wan whispered.


End file.
